Caramel
by LovelyOnesLie
Summary: Hermione never expected the end of the war to bring instant peace, but she certainly hadn't expected this.
1. Boom

Disclaimer: I own nothing, obviously, except for the plot...not that there is one, at this point.

Please, let me know if you don't like my formatting, or something is wrong. I haven't written fanfiction in ages, and even before, I couldn't figure out the formatting.

Read, Enjoy, Love on me with a review!

* * *

The final battle roared into being on the streets of Hogsmeade. Harry, Ron and Hermione strode confidently through the fighting, darting through spell fire, stepping over the fallen.

For now, they had nothing on their minds but Voldemort. Harry fell to his knees, his head feeling as though it would explode as they came upon the vile man. Hermione quickly pulled the dark haired young man up and pushed a vial into his shaking hands. He consumed the potion within and in moments, was standing strong on his own again. He shared a look between the three of them, nodded and surged forwards.

* * *

Voldemort never knew what was coming. One moment he had been lecturing Harry Potter, his red headed blood traitor and the whore Mudblood, the next, an odd whistling noise, Nagini's frantic hissing, and an explosion of pain in his forehead. For once in his life, Voldemort looked completely ridiculous as he crossed his eyes and watched the blood drip down his nose. He began to inform Nagini that it wasn't the end, when he realized- it was.

There was no satisfying feeling of anchorage, no pull on his soul to move towards his Horcruxes. As his body crumpled to the ground, and his body died, Voldemort's tiny wisp of a soul wailed in disappointment. The black, evil whisper of a soul darted towards Nagini and happily joined the other scrap of dark soul within her.

* * *

Harry glanced at the hissing snake, and the lecturing snake-faced man. He scowled, lifted his arm, and finally killed the menace that was Voldemort.

A single bullet through the forehead. Simple, easy, instant.

After months of fruitless searching, Harry had consulted Hermione's father; Ted, on the best way to efficiently kill a man. He had taken the suggestion's and run with days he had a gun permit and a lovely little handgun Jean; Hermione's mother, had owned since her twenties.

* * *

Nagini, frantic with confusion and worry, curled around her cooling master's body. She hissed worriedly at him, with no response. She never even saw the tan arm rising once more, or the finger squeezing the trigger. As a matter of fact, she barely even felt the small bullet peirce her hard, protective scales. As her massive body loosened around Voldemort's cold body and her head fell with a 'thump' to the ground, all she could hear was Voldemort's soul screaming in odd echo's through her head for her to get up and keep him alive.

* * *

The three watched silently as the huge snake went down just as her master had, a small, smoking hole adorning the space between her lifeless eyes. The Horcrux within her was destroyed with a stab of Gryffindor's sword through the now dead snake's skull. Harry used an incredibly controlled fiendfyre on both bodies, then returned to fighting the stunned Death Eaters. (Who knew one could cast a controllable fiendfyre?)

Ron disappeared, his red hair blending into the others as the red headed family banded together against a large crop of death eaters.

* * *

Hermione had barely turned from the burning bodies when she was accosted by Narcissa. The blonde woman looked worn, but she fought with pure skill and experience. They were a near match, neither faltering, neither winning.

The woman's grey-blue eyes widened, and the spell on her lips faded quite suddenly. Hermione frowned and was about to step forwards. At that exact moment, it was said that a brick from a nearby destroyed shop rose into the air on its own and sped towards her. It smashed into her head, knocking her to the ground.

Hermione fell, her last images of the battle a distraught Narcissa rushing forwards, hands outstretched, and Harry's large green eyes boring into hers as he turned from his duel with Lucius to watch her fall. He shot a spell out, still staring at Hermione. It caught the blond man in the chest perfectly, sending him flying, wrapped in chains. Harry was off though, not paying any attention to the fights going on around him as he leapt over bodies and darted through spell fire. He was mere feet from Narcissa went her vision went black.

* * *

Review? Tell me what you think!


	2. Dream

Hermione Granger lay on her back in the black dark of the night. The crisp, overly clean scent of the hospital wing surrounded her. The stiff white bed clothes clung uncomfortably to her cotton hospital pajamas.

Her eyes were wide open, and had been for the past three hours. Still, they hadn't adjusted in the least, and were becoming painfully dry. Hermione blinked, and nearly groaned in relief. She caught herself just in time. She wasn't, after all, the only one in the hospital wing. Something had woke her up, some little noise from the other end of the hospital wing. It hadn't repeated yet, and Hermione's nerves were fraying.

The sixth week of post-war celebrations were beginning. Harry, Ron, and herself along with a few dozen others were still restrained to beds. Hermione was the last one to awaken. Harry had seized a few dozen times, Ron could barely move and was stiff as a board. His movements were jerky and he needed quite a bit of help moving around. It seemed only Hermione was responding to her healing, her body growing limp and relaxed, her breathing evening out over the past six weeks from the almost corpse-like way she had been before. The only thing left to heal, was the wrapping around her head injury.

The white gauze of the bandage wrapped around her entire head in heavy layers, covering nearly her entire face from mid forehead to just below her cheekbones. In response, her sense of touch and hearing had heightened to near painful levels.

Hermione mentally shoved herself away from her thoughts. _Get to the point, bookworm. What woke us up?_ Overall, Hermione had no idea. The odd chim-shuffle-clatter she had heard before had never happened again.

Currently the only noise other than snoring was…well…Hermione blushed in the dark. Someone was having sex. Usually, sex sounds didn't bother her. Hermione was a deep enough sleeper to ignore the noise.

This time though, Hermione could hear nearly every sound.

Heavy, uneven breathing. Skin lightly slapping against skin where bodies met. Cloth shifting against skin and sheets, little feminine moans and deep masculine rumbles. Hermione slowly realized she was blushing. She also realized that the sounds weren't coming from across the room as she had thought. Oh no. No, they were coming from Ronald Bilius Weasley's bed.

Right.

Next.

To.

Her.

Hermione felt like crying.

She felt like she was going to die.

She knew that voice, and she knew it well. Then it came again, that soft whine Ron would let out when he was nearing his peak.

The female he was with lifted her body away and chuckled sweetly. The shadowed outline of the woman's lean body was clear against the curtain separating Hermione and Ron's bed. A curtain of slightly curled hair brushing against his chest, a curved back as the woman leaned down and kissed Ronald, perky breasts, a shapely rear.

Hermione nearly jumped out of her skin as the woman chuckled. She'd heard that satisfied chuckle more than enough times during the long, hot summers at the Burrow. Back in the day when Ginny Weasley had finally broken through her obsession with the quiet, dark Harry Potter. She used to smuggle boyfriends into the house, Hermione would pretend that Ginny's silencing spells had never wavered, but in truth, Ginny _sucked_ at muffling and silencing spells.

Hermione would always shoot one off before she fell asleep, then sigh and deal with it when she awoke in the middle of the night to Ginny's chuckle as she held herself just barely above whimpering, straining men. She would drop back down with a soft, feminine sigh and the night would wear on till the barest hints of light peeked over the horizon. Ginny would look up, out the window over her bed, see the trees along the horizon outlined in the sunrise. The beautiful sight combined with the man below her—inside her, would bring about the final orgasm. She would shudder, sigh, and send him away as her parents and siblings began to awaken.

Hermione released a soft sigh at the exact same moment Ginny did. The know-it-all shuddered. She couldn't wait for Harry to wake. She needed some answers.

The next time Hermione awoke, she felt the heat of the sun dancing across her cheeks, the collar of her nightgown digging into the side of her neck, and familiarly calloused fingers stroking the curve of her bared shoulder. She tilted her head more towards the sun and smiled sweetly.

Chapped, broad lips pressed dryly against her shoulder.

"Good morning, sleepyhead." Her best friend's deep voice, scratchy with disuse mumbled into her skin. Her smiled stretched even larger.

"Me, the sleepyhead?" She felt his tousled head nod against her. "What about you, mister-I'm-not-waking-up-for-six-freakin-weeks-because-I'm-the-boy-who-lived-and-stomped-on-moldy-voldy's-ass?" Harry's fingers paused for a moment, then began shaking.

Hermione was worried. Had she made him cry? She began to apologize, but stopped herself as Harry's caramel smooth laughter filled the somber nooks and crannies of the hospital wing with its bright, heartfelt, stomach aching goodness.

_Mmmm_ she hadn't heard him laugh since the night they danced to the radio after Ron left them during the Horcrux hunt. Harry had the _best _laugh.

"What's so funny, mate?" the new voice made Hermione freeze. Harry sighed contentedly as he quieted, his fingers trailing down her arm, over the sleeve of her nightgown to her hand, which he began to massage gently.

Some of Hermione's favorite and treasured times had been after a long study session in the library. The boys would gently massage the knots and pain from her hands. Those quills and books weren't good for a ladies hands, they would explain as they rubbed and smoothed the aches away. It had quickly become a de-stressing solution during the Horcrux hunt, for Hermione and Harry always seemed to know when she needed it.

"Nothing, nothing. Feeling better after your shower, Ron?" Ron replied, but Hermione's headspace was going crazy, and she didn't hear him. Would he tell Harry? Should Hermione tell him? Would he believe her? What would Ginny do?

The answer to her last question arose as Ron finished speaking to Harry. Hermione caught the tail end of their conversation.

"….say she'll never see again…" Hermione frowned, who had they been talking about? A loss of sight would be just terrible! The poor girl. She would have to find out who it was, so she could help them.

"I don't know Ron. We'll figure it out." The doors at the end of the wing creaked open. "Oh, hey Ginny. Come sit with us, love." Ginny bounded over and cuddled into Harry, dragging the hand still curled around Hermione's wrist around herself.

"Hermione really needs to get up. I mean really, she's making everyone more worried than she should." Harry, Hermione knew, had blanched. She carefully pulled herself up, to resounding silence.

"Good morning to you, Ginevra. I do so hope you had a lovely night." Ron choked on air, and Ginny snarled.

"It was great. _Thanks._" Hermione shrugged and brushed a curl back from her face.

"Lovely." Harry, she could tell, was utterly confused. Hermione sighed. She was through the with morning tension. She sat up and scowled.

Then screamed. Pain overwhelmed her senses, and her vision wavered. Harry and Ginny were speaking, but they also seemed to be fading.

Hermione realized, with a jolt, that she wasn't in the hospital wing, and her friends weren't around.

No, she was far from the warm, clean wing of Hogwarts. Her vision was black, the freezing stone against her fingers was layered in dirt, icy metal cuffs circled her ankles, and the sound and heat of a handmade torch crackled near her head.

Hermione's mind buzzed. Where was she? She could hear screaming in the distance, and labored breathing a few feet away. The breather shifted with a clank and clatter of chains.

A dungeon, then. If so, how had she gotten there? Hermione sighed.

"I see you're awake." The velvety smooth voice of her ex-potions professor graced her ears.  
"Severus." She whispered. Long fingers dug into her hair and pulled her head back. Thin, cold lips touched her ear.

"You _must_ keep quiet here. They have been giving you a potion and spell combination that sends you to a better place as they torture you. Less screaming that way. Please, don't put up a fight. Let me do what I need to do, and accept what you see as the truth. You can only. Trust. Me." He stood and as he did so, light flooded her vision.

Severus Snape stood above her, a black cloth in his hands. He bundled it up and slipped it into his pocket, then turned.

"She seems to be okay. Exhausted, but okay. You'll need to leave her alone for a while, though, if you don't want her to get stuck in the dream." Ginny Weasley stepped into the light of the torch hooked above Hermione's head. She eyed the brains of the Golden Trio and smirked.

"I suppose we can move on to others." She brushed a bit of imaginary dirt from her skirt and sniffed. "Let's go. I have a date with Harry in twenty minutes. I don't want to go to him smelling of mud." Severus bowed slightly and held open the cell door Hermione hadn't noticed for the redhead. He gave Hermione one last piercing look before closing and locking the door.


	3. Breathe

I'm terribly sorry! I took a bit of a disgustingly long breather from writing, and then tried to continue writing for this story. The chapter I wrote was awful, so I tried again. This was as much as I could get before I started churning out crap again.

Please let me know if you think I should try to continue!

* * *

_Hermione Granger shifted nervously, her shiny black mary janes tapping against the brick floor of the station. Her father leaned tiredly against their cart, rubbing at his forehead._

"_Are you certain it said 9 & ¾?" Jane asked as she paced in small circles in front of the cart, man and girl. Hermione sighed._

"_Yes mum."_

"_Could you just…check?" The elder Granger's honey brown eyes were flitting over the signs, becoming more and more frustrated as the sign she was searching for remained hidden._

_Hermione rolled her eyes, but dug into her skirt pocket for the well folded letter._

Hermione was smiling as her cinnamon brown eyes lifted to the sky. It was the same cool, bright summer day as her first experience with the magical world. Today felt like her last.

She was caked in filth. Mud clung to her clothing, blood caked in her hair, her exposed limbs were heavy with dirt, blood and injuries. There was nothing for her to smile about.

Still, Hermione smiled.

A thin, ropey arm wrapped around her shoulders, her face pressed against a thin chest covered in standard black wizards robes. She took a breath, lifted her lovely eyes to the blue, cloudless sky, and on her exhale, the two disappeared.

Severus released her the moment he could. She stunk, and he was afraid that his hold had jostled her possible wounds. She didn't move from where she stood, not even as he began sifting through his siblings belongings, searching for something to fit her.

" Hermione" he said softly "Are you going to stare at the ceiling the entire time we're here?" Hermione turned and smiled at him. Her chapped pink lips twitched as she held back laughter.

"No, Severus. I was just pleased to see the sky again. Perhaps you could tell me what has been going on in my absence?"

Severus was shocked. He had expected anger, tears, depression. Not smiles and questions about others. What on earth _was_ this girl?


	4. Learning

"I…I mean…_what?_" Hermione nearly smiled. She had never thought she would see the day that Severus Snape stuttered, or better yet, would be at a loss for words. She closed her eyes, and relished in the thought, pushing each of her dark thoughts and questions. She needed this moment to bask in the old, nearly lost thrill of amusement.

Severus, on the other hand, was scrambling for his run-away thoughts. He had been prepared for screaming, crying, inconsolable female. It had taken i_ages/i_ to mentally prepare. He pressed his potion-stained fingers against his face and took a deep breath. He could vaguely hear the little chit chuckling to herself in the middle of the entry way, where his apparition had landed them. This was Hermione Granger, know-it-all, brains of the Golden Trio. He could handle her with ease—like brewing a dreamless sleep for Poppy, a potion he could brew dead asleep.

Hermione took a moment amidst her giggles to look around. It was dark, dreary and nearly empty. Still, this was just the entrance. Knowing Severus and his half-life as a Prince, there would be more to the house. She had heard him muttering about siblings, so there had to be a touch of life somewhere in the shabby place. Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to stand awakening to a dark, lonely place like the cell again.

"Severus," she called gently. "Please. What has happened while I've been away?" Severus sighed and straightened his shoulders. Hermione smiled to herself as she watched him collect his scattered self and cloak it in his old, mean potions professor mask.

"Very much, Hermione. Very much." His voice was silky and smooth once more. He stepped forwards, gently gripped her elbow and led her to a nearby sitting room.

There, Hermione found the spark of life she had been mentally begging for. The walls were painted a rich red, a fire roared cheerfully in a rather large grate. A heavy oak table commandeered most of the room. A large piece of parchment had been spread across the table top, spidery lines and words were scattered in Severus's familiar scrawl across the parchment.

Severus glanced down at his young houseguest and smirked. Of course she would be drawn to the most annoying, trouble-ridden thing in the room. "I've been mapping out Miss Weasley's…i_lair_./i" Hermione swallowed thickly and nodded. "I was hoping to recreate the…map," his voice lilted in a question. Hermione nodded sharply "that mister Potter inherited. Lupin and the younger Malfoy have been…assisting."

Hermione remembered with sudden, sharp clarity the scent of wet earth, the feel of cold stone at her back, and the sound of Ginny screaming about Draco's sudden success in the world of Charms research and development—something that the fiery redhead had been trying to achieve the entire time Hermione had been imprisoned.. A passing thought snagged on Hermione's sharp mind.

"Lupin? You mean Remus?" Severus made a noise of agreement as he shaped the tip of a new quill. "How is he? Last I had known, he was out on a mission to find werewolves that had been in hiding." Severus swallowed thickly and searched blindly for a chair.

Good lord. It i_had_ /ibeen a while since Hermione had been taken. Severus had nearly forgotten. He ran a hand over his face and tapped at his lips with one long, pale finger. He gestured with his other hand to the chair across from him. Once Hermione was seated, he waved his wand, rearranging the room so that their chairs were closer to the warmth of the fire.

"What is it?" She asked in a tiny, fearful voice.

"Hermione, it has been…much longer than you think since you disappeared." Hermione's brown eyes widened. She shrunk back into her plush armchair.

"How long?" She asked quietly. Severus shook his head. He didn't want to have to tell her. The long years spent watching her gaze about mindlessly, lost in ever-perfect dreams had softened his view of her. Standing by listlessly as she was tortured, starved, left to die. The healing potions and incantations he had been forced to use, over and over…could she handle this potentially mind-shattering information?

He watched her critically as she straightened in her chair, her Gryffindor courage rearing up behind her slightly glassy eyes. Severus was humbly reminded of the many times when Dumbledore would visit and plop rather childishly into the exact same plush armchair, the very same mix of stubborn courage bubbling merrily in his blue, blue eyes. Severus closed his eyes on the memory and opened them to a once more strengthened, determined young woman.

"Severus." She whispered, "how long?" Severus gathered up his courage. Why was it so hard to speak to her?

"Years, Hermione. Long, awful years." Hermione leaned closer, her dirt and blood stained cheeks darkening her pale, sunless features.

"Severus Snape." She hissed "How. Long." He swallowed heavily. It was those eyes. Those inquisitive, intelligent, trusting eyes. The same as Lilly's. The same as Albus's. She would bear the news, or crumble to his feet. Severus knew, in that moment, that he would be there to help her up.

"Five years, Hermione." He whispered in a strangled voice. "It's been five years."

Hermione slumped back into the chair. Five years, hmm? A lot could happen in five years. Teddy would be four. Tonks, more mature and settled. Perhaps the twins had wives and children. Harry and Ron older, wiser. Perhaps they had married. There could even be children. Her parents had perhaps given up hope on ever finding her. Her Hogwarts class would have graduated without her, moved on into the world together. Everyone would have picked up the pieces and moved on. The wizarding world had likely forgotten her.

The wheels in her mind churned. It would be awkward, and invasive, her return. Could she leave magic behind her? Could she integrate into some purely muggle community, leaving all that she knew behind? Hermione sighed, and nodded to herself. She could live without seeing any of them again, it would hurt, but she could do it. For their sakes.

Ginny's pretty, youthful face flared up in her mind's eye. Yes. Yes, she could live without seeing her old friends—her family…but not before she completely and utterly _destroyed_ Ginerva Weasley, Harry's feelings for the redhead be damned.

The floo flared to life. An older, jaded version of the Draco Malfoy Hermione had once known stepped out, still arguing valiantly with a less weary, happier looking Remus Lupin. Both staggered back in shock as they caught sight of the battered, exhausted Hermione Granger, and the bloodied Severus Snape residing in the room.

"Bloody hell!" Draco screeched "You'll be ruining the upholstery!" Hermione nearly lost herself in giggles. Some things—some people, never changed.


	5. Learning II

Remus and Draco quickly had the two battle weary magic wielders bathed, dressed in new, clean clothing and settled down with food that would be easy for both to handle. Hermione frowned grumpily at the nearly clear broth and toast she was presented with.

Severus glared her into submission.

"Miss Granger," he snapped "it has been a long time since you have consumed the correct amount of food, much less anything with any sort of nourishment. Eat what you have been given, or go without."

Hermione wrinkled her nose, then quickly lifted the well polished, silver spoon to her lips.

Remus looked worried. Draco amused. Severus simply rolled his eyes and returned his attention to his own meal.

Later, when the dishes had been taken away by a happily squeaky house elf, Remus took Hermione aside.

"Severus thought it would be best if I gave you the updates. He and Draco are going to plan what to do next." Hermione nodded slowly, already noticing the way the older man was twisting at his shirt sleeves and the dark look creeping into his amber eyes.

"There is something you don't want to tell me." She observed.

Lupin smiled slowly and nodded. He wasn't startled in the least at her near mind-reading. Hermione had always been observant and smart.

"Yes. First, I would like to tell you the good news." He lifted his hips slightly and tugged his rather muggle leather wallet from his pocket.

He proceeded to introduce her to his children; Teddy, now 4, and Jean—named after Hermione, aged 2. Jean was an unusually beautiful little girl, with a head of auburn locks and her mother's natural grey-blue eyes. An odd combination of her parents looks, but one that seemed to suit the tiny girl.

"Tonks will want to smother you in hugs. She tells the children stories about you before bed. It's lovely." He said quietly as he stroked a finger across the close-up of Tonks. Her eyes were sparkling in the spring sun, her cheeks nearly the same cherry blossom pink of her hair. She waved and smiled brightly at the two, then darted out of the photo's frame, only to return with a handful of cherry blossoms. "we took the children to Japan last spring." Remus explained softly.

Hermione smiled and touched his knee. "That's sweet." She murmured.

Remus shook himself and put away the photographs.

"Molly and Arthur haven't changed much. They're a little more weary, a little more tired, but mostly everyone is these days." He sighed. "After the war ended…after you disappeared, we all went a little crazy. Those first few months were god-awful. After the first year without a single clue, we had to let the search go a little. Teddy was born. Angelina announced that she was pregnant with Fred's child. Ginny began to talk of marriage. Harry talked her out of it." Hermione smiled a watery, shuddering smile. Remus moved closer on the couch and wrapped an arm around her shoulders.

"These days, Fleur and Bill are in France with their two children. Angelina and Fred have moved to Hogsmeade, George and Lee are petitioning for same sex marriages. Charlie lost a few fingers last year during a hatching, but he's alright. Married one of the Patils…." He trailed off. "Oh! Luna and Draco have been seen dating!"

Draco shrieked a low 'shut up!' from across the room. The two snickered together.

They grew silent. Hermione sighed slowly and patted Remus's hand.

"Remus, honestly. I noticed you didn't say anything about Ron…just tell me. I've dealt with plenty of shocking things today, I can handle one more." Remus nodded slowly.

"Ronald…has married." He took a moment to let the shock seep into Hermione's skin. She smiled gently.

"Remus, I was never quite as involved with Ronald as he made everyone believe." Remus nearly grinned.

"I always knew it! I knew you and Harry were meant to be." He said quietly. Hermione blushed.

"Perhaps so." She shook her head. "Who did Ronald marry?" Remus chuckled and shook his head, a wry grin spreading across his face.

Hermione stared at him for a moment before dissolving into giggles. "d-d-don't tell me." She forced out between breathless laughter "Lavender Brown? And she's pregnant already?"

Draco, whom had stepped over to see 'what in bloody hell is so amusing' stared at her in shock, along with an equally shocked Remus.

"Is she a legimens?" He demanded of the former professor. Remus shook his head and threw his hands up in the air.

"I've got no clue, but I'm starting to think she is!" Hermione sobered quickly, a frown slowly replacing the giggles.

"But…Ron was in a relationship." She whispered suddenly. "With a…with a man." Remus studiously stared at the carpet.

"Yes." He said quietly. Draco retreated rather quickly. Snape followed him.

Hermione watched them go with a cocked brow, then turned her attention back to Remus.

"Why did he marry Lavender? He was happy with his secret lover." The older man sighed.

"She was captured right after you, but found much more quickly. A death eater raped her. Ron was the first to find her, she latched on to him, insisted that the child that was born from the rape was his, not the man that…violated her." Hermione shook her head, tears gathering in her warm brown eyes.

"That's wrong. That's wrong! What about _his _happiness?" Remus shrugged helplessly. Hermione took a deep breath. "I'm sorry. That was cruel. I might not understand what she is going through, but I know her. We _were _ roommates. Still. Ronald never did have much of a backbone when it came to coddling women….Alright. Fine. ' move on, there are more important things I need to know. What of the other death eaters?"

"Killed or captured and locked up in the new Azkaban. Moody runs it, keeps everyone on their toes. There hasn't been a single escape, or even attempt." Hermione nodded slowly. Azkaban was good. Moody was even better.

The stones of Azkaban probably still held the horrible memory of the dementors. Less effective, but still useful. A very smart usage of the stronghold.

A question rose to the forefront of Hermione's mind. One she both wanted answered, and didn't want answered. Her logical side reared up and took over. She _needed_ to know. Needed to prove to whomever had helped Ginny, that she wasn't back out in the world, weak as a kitten. A plan had to be made.

"Do you have any details about Ginny's helpers? She's not smart enough to have come up with a plan to kidnap me on her own."

Remus sighed and leaned forwards, closer to the fire. He stared into the leaping flames for a few moments before replying.

"We have some ideas. They aren't certain, and Severus may have found out something more tonight."

A tumbler of whiskey floated gently to Remus's side. He turned slightly to see a trembling young Malfoy and grim looking Severus Snape nearing the couch. They took their seats.

Hermione sat up straighter as the potions master turned his dark gaze to her.

"We may have a small issue."


	6. Repercussions

"An issue?"

"How small, _exactly_?"

Hermione and Remus startled each other as they both rose and snatched up the bait Severus had set out nearly simultaneously. The man smirked at them as he sipped calmly at his drink.

"Oh, not quite as small as one would hope." He turned his head to stare at the still standing, and trembling Draco. "Mr. Malfoy has some thoughts on what he has heard from my account of the night."

Remus nodded slowly. "And what would those thoughts be, Mr. Malfoy?" He asked gently.

Draco stumbled forwards, and plopped rather hard onto the plush couch cushion next to his godfather.

"I'm not positive, but I think it's the _wives_. You know, all those women who never took the mark, they're still out there. Living free while their husbands and sons rot away in Azkaban. They would want revenge. Who better to take it from than part of the Golden Trio. The most delicate, important part."

Remus nodded slowly as he sat back. He swirled his drink lazily as he gazed into the fire. He began to nod more, as his thoughts gathered.

"Yes, yes we always knew that something would have to be done with them…though, we had hoped…." He trailed off.

"That they would stay away?" Severus snarled as he threw back the rest of his drink. "Honestly, Remus. I may have been in hiding, but even I knew that they would need to be captured! This is why we don't let a bunch of bloody Gryffindor's take care of things!" The three looked on in shock as twin spots of red arose, brilliantly dark just under Severus's high cheekbones. He stood and began to pace, his threadbare robes whipped about him, though not nearly as impressively as they once had.

"All those women!" he ranted angrily. "They have money, power, influence! Bellatrix? Yaxely? Goyle and Crabbe? Lady Nott? They may have seem like simple decorations, but some of those women controlled much more of their husbands duties than let on. Merlin's beard, we're fucked." He dropped heavily back down into his seat.

Draco blinked at him for a long moment.

"You didn't include my mother. Shouldn't you have included my mother?" Severus gave him a long look.

"No. Your mother never liked your fathers involvement in the dark arts. Accepted it because she had to, agreed to it, no…" He paused and rubbed at his temple with long fingers. "Do you recall the final battle?"

Draco nodded. Remus blanched, but nodded as well. Hermione simply pulled her legs up and rested her cheek on the tops of her knees. Severus would not have brought up such a painful, dark day for no reason.

"Narcissa was there. She didn't want you to complete any of the tasks the Dark Lord had set you to. She took down people on both sides. You were in a duel with Longbottom _and_ Bellatrix, right behind Hermione when Ginny struck. She had tried to use a blasting hex, I heard her shout it. She mis-aimed, and it hit a nearby house. The bricks flew everywhere, one hit you, Hermione." He glanced over at the curled up girl. She touched the back of her head and winced.

"Narcissa knew how important you were to the war, and to Harry Potter's survival, so she rushed to help you. Ginerva cast an imperious on her, and had her take Hermione away to a secret location. I don't know what happened then. Just that, when I was taken in by the Weasley chit, Narcissa had finally managed to break the spell."

Severus gave Draco a significant look. The imperious was nearly impossible to break.

"She was in a bad state, but knew enough about the situation to keep quiet about it. She asked me to slip her some potions. Mostly healing, and nutritional ones. Just before I left, I got word that there was a nasty little white snake harassing some females in one of the rooms I wasn't allowed to go in…" He eyed Draco.

The young man burst into peals of laughter.

"Oh Merlin. Sweet, sweet Merlin. I had forgotten that mother was an animangus." He grew solemn. "I hope she's okay."

A short while later, they chose to disassemble their meeting. Sleep was needed, in large amounts. Severus set them to meet again three days later.

Hermione and the weary potions master slept every single moment of those three days.

Both awoke with a startled gasp at exactly two in the afternoon on the third day. Blindly, and terribly weakly, they stumbled to their individual doors and yanked them open.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Snape snarled.

"Fuck if I know." Hermione responded blearily.

Both sighed, stepped back into their rooms, slammed their respective doors and fell back into bed.

Dobby cackled gleefully.

Oh, the two missing Heroes-Of-The-Great-War had not changed one bit. His Master-Harry-Potter-Sir would be very pleased. He had worked hard to shorten his abbreviations.


	7. Surprises

Harry Potter was not one to be easily startled. Not anymore. Years of lying in wait for his cousin and his brutish friends to attack, and fighting for his very life had honed that special little startle-bit in his brain.

Thus, when the ever-excitable Dobby popped into existence at his elbow, Harry didn't even flinch.

In fact, Harry had noticed the house elf's arrival much earlier than he should have. The slight displacement of air, the gentle crackle of magic across his skin, and the barely-there tug on the bond between elf and wizard had long ago warned him.

"Dobby." He greeted, bowing his head slightly as he stirred the bubbling cauldron in front of him.

"Master-Harry-Potter-Sir!" Dobby squeaked. He flapped his large green ears and grinned up at him rather wolfishly.

"Yes?" Harry had long ago learned to be short and sweet with the small being. If not, little Dobby could babble for hours. Said house elf bounced excitedly.

"I has founds them! Master-Malfoy-Dragon-Baby and and your Wolfy-Papa!" Harry nearly burst into laughter. As it was, his ribs were already beginning to ache from his withheld joy.

"Have you?" He asked.

"OH YES, SIR!" Harry gestured at a pile of fragrant leaves just barely out of his reach. Dobby quickly gathered them in his oddly long fingers and brought them to the young man.

"Dobby, was there something terribly important about you finding them?"

Dobby shook himself all over and nodded enthusiastically.

"Well?"

"They's was with Smelly-Master-Hook! And Hermy, oh, silly Hermy." The wooden spoon in Harry's hand fell to the floor. Tomato sauce splattered everywhere. Harry held one hand to his head, the other behind himself. A stool smacked into his free hand. He dropped onto it.

"Dobby." The bouncing house elf paused to climb up onto the Boy-Who-Lived's lap.

"Yes Master-Harry-Potter-Sir?"

"Did you see Hermione? And Severus?" Dobby nodded and smiled brightly.

"Oh, yes sir!"

Harry swayed on the spot. The sound of small pattering feet on well worn stone was all that kept him upright on the backless stool.

"Mister Potter? Look! The carrots are ready, Lyra said so!" A small boy with mousey brown hair held up a handful of grubby carrots. Blindly, Harry nodded.

"Good job Henry…please, tell Lyra I need to go." Brown eyebrows knit together.

"But sir….what about dinner?" Harry's face fell.

"I'm sorry Henry. Tell the others something very, _very_ important has come up. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible." He cast a wandless, blind, modified pause on the stove and large cauldron, then stood.

"Dobby, take me to them." Dobby gripped his larger, heavily tanned hand in both of his long spindly hands, and closed his eyes.


	8. The House

A/N: Do forgive me for a few dozen spelling mistakes. I don't know all of these precious places like the back of my hand, and I've hit a bit of a writing explosion. It's not exactly giving me time to go through and look up what might be needing to be looked up.

Don't flame me about it, I'll fix it later.

* * *

Not for the first time in his life, Harry Potter experienced house elf magic.

For the first time in his life, harry Potter learnt what it felt like to have magic reject him. He and Dobby popped back into the kitchen they had previously been in rather violently, falling from midair to the hard stone floor in a tangle.

"Ouch." Both muttered. Harry sat up and gently helped the small elf to his feet. He stayed seated on the floor.

"Dobby, what _was_ that?" The shamed house elf pulled and tugged on his large bat-like ears. He blinked massive, teary eyes at him.

"I's so sorry Master-Harry-Potter-Sir! Ohhh, I's never expected that's! Whys didn't I? Oh, I's a bad house elf. Dobby is bad, bad, bad! I's will go punish myself. Irons to the ears! Head in the stove!" Harry sighed heavily. He rubbed his face, then looked up as quiet chattering rose around him.

10 small children ranging from ages three to twelve stood in the doorway of the kitchen, an awkwardly willowy seventeen year old girl in the midst.

"Harry?" She asked quietly. Harry closed his eyes.

Christ, it had been a long day. These children didn't need more violence in their lives.

"Dobby." He said quietly. "Come here."

The small house elf scurried over quickly to the still seated man. "There will be no hurting yourself, do you hear me Dobby?"

Dobby blinked at him owlishly.

"None?" he asked.

"None."

The children cheered and rushed forwards, scrambling for hugs from Dobby and cuddles from Harry.

Later, after Harry had finished making his stew, and had served it up, the children were ushered to bed. Dobby chased after them with a washcloth, threatening to spit on the soft cloth and scrub viciously at their chocolaty cheeks if they didn't get into the washroom quickly.

Harry plopped tiredly onto a long bench. The young girl quickly sat across from him.

"Harry." She said quietly. "What on earth is going on?"

Harry eyed the blonde. One of Luna Lovegood's distant cousins, she had the strange, other-worldly quality to her. Lyra's parents had been murdered by Death Eaters in a raid mere days before the battle. She had been left homeless, and near defenseless. On her journey to the Lovegoods, she had come across many other children just like her.

They had taken up residence at a rather dilapidated inn deep in Knockturn alley. Harry had found them mere weeks after the war. He had been wandering around mindlessly, trying to imagine who would dare to kidnap Hermione when the soft, musical laughter of true joy filtered through his dark thoughts.

Hermione had never let him go on in a funk for as long as he had been in this particular one. Ron, of course, never knew how to handle him when he was brooding. The twins had kept far away. Remus had been busy with Tonks and here nearing due date. Ginny had been oddly absent, saying she was busy with the hospital and repairing Hogsmeade.

Thus, that brightness of true laughter was very much so welcome. Harry spoke to the owner of the inn, and found out that the children were there on pure charity. The haggard witch had then confessed that she was ill, and that she would soon have to evict them. Harry instantly took them on.

His new project. His relief from the ever present dark, brooding thoughts constantly on the edge of his consciousness. He transformed Grimwold Place. It became known as The House.

Children of all ages and blood purities were welcome. They streamed in and out of the house, now converted into a youth hostel/orphanage. Harry was there whenever possible.

Lyra had become his confidant. His friend. One of the few in the house capable of adult conversation, and logic.

On the days that Harry was perfectly willing to serve ice cream for all three meals, Lyra was there to remind him of exactly how unhealthy the idea was—and to calculate exactly how many brain freezes and sugar crashes there would be.

Harry took a deep breath. "Dobby informed me earlier that he has found Hermione and Severus Snape." Lyra gaped.

"Severus Snape as in the traitor- dead for a million years- Severus Snape?" Harry rolled his eyes and stood. He began to pace the length of the kitchen.

"No, no. Severus was never a traitor. I proved that years ago. Come on, Lyra. I need your pureblood expertise." He sat back down, his knee jumping wildly. Lyra summoned two cups of steaming tea. She gently curled his hands around his mug.

"Harry, calm down. I was just startled. Please. Tell me what's going on." Harry nodded slowly, and proceeded to tell her about the botched appiration.

"Sounds like expensive, powerful wards." She said, after a moment of thought and a few sips of warm, fog-clearing tea.

"I didn't know one could ward against house elves." Harry muttered as he rubbed his temples tiredly.

"Harry, honestly. You said Remus was there as well?" The raven haired young man nodded. Lyra smiled.

"You see, things will be fine." She stood and collected their tea things. "Off to bed with you. It's late and there will be much to do tomorrow, no?" Harry scowled wistfully at his still half-full tea mug.

"Yes, I suppose so." Lyra stuck her tongue out at him.

"Shoo!"

"Yes, mother."

Harry Potter knew how to pout, and would do so willingly at a smug seventeen year old.

Who knew.


	9. Spying

The first thing Harry did upon waking, was call for Dobby. He asked the disturbingly energetic house elf to repeat the exact events of the previous day.

Dobby did so. Perfectly.

Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin had been worried for ages about her husband. He would leave for hours on end, and never tell her where he was. When he came back, he was tired, sad, and often irritable.

She knew he was too honorable to have an affair, too sweet to even look at another woman the wrong way. But Remus not telling her what was going on was weird. Far too weird for the harried ex-aurorer.

Tonks had swiftly contacted Harry and asked him to speak to the werewolf. Rather surprisingly, nothing had been revealed. The Boy-Who-Had-Lived had caught the scent though. The deadly, stomach swooping scent of adventure, mystery, intrigue.

He was determined to find out exactly what his favorite werewolf had gotten himself in to.

For a good few days, Dobby had been tailing Remus. Each night, he came back completely clueless.

"He disappeared." Dobby would wail. "I don't know where he went!" Dobby's house elf magic couldn't follow him. There was some sort of block.

Tonks had willingly given up. Remus was her husband. He would tell her what he was involved in, eventually.

Harry was not so easy going. Remus had children now, he needed to be more careful! What if something happened to him and no one knew where he was? Harry was a mess of hypochondria, paranoia and fear. He danced along the edge of a rather thin blade for a long time.

After a long visit to The Home, and a few easy dates with Ginny, Harry had let the whole Remus-spying idea go.

The man was grown, he could handle himself just fine. Plus, he knew many different ways to contact Harry, and had once been a DADA professor. If that didn't qualify him to take care of himself, then there was just something _wrong_ with the world.

Harry let himself sink back into his work; Taking care of The Home, and working on passing laws to protect and free magical beings of all sorts.

Then, the previous night, Dobby had popped in with the news.

Harry had completely forgotten to tell Dobby to stop tailing Remus. For once, he was overjoyed to be so forgetful.

As Harry's feet hit the cool floor, he reached for a ballpoint pen and a scrap of parchment.

He had to tell the others that Hermione was okay. Or, at least, that Remus had found her. He began to form the letters of Ron's name. His heart lurched. His stomach swooped.

Harry's body was telling him all the things he had been ignoring in the past. _Stop. Don't do this. You know better._ Harry sighed. He put down the pen, and dropped his hands into his head.

The unfinished note drifted to the floor.

"Tonks is about to blow up at me, I can't stay long today." Remus blurted, the minute he stumbled out of the floo.

Draco tumbled in mere seconds later, grunting as he collided with Remus's back.

"Well hello to you. Nice day, isn't it." He grumbled from his face plant in the werewolf's jacket. Remus stepped away blushing.

"Sorry Draco." He brushed the soot from his slacks, freezing as a very feminine voice gasped.

"Hermione?"

Remus and Draco turned very slowly. Standing just within the grate, a sooty Nymphadora Tonks-Lupin stared open mouthed at a pajama clad, messy haired Hermione Granger and snarling, grumpier than the devil leading potions master in all of Brittan, Severus Snape.

"Joy." He grumbled. "Who brought the metamorphagus?"


	10. Tonks

"Fuck!"

"Bloody hell, Nympie!"

"Great piles of Merlin's underpants!"

Silence rolled through the room. Four mouths were dropped open, in plain shock.

"what the hell was that?" "Where'd that even come from?" "you're so weird." "are you sure she isn't brain damaged?"

Chocolate-cinnamon eyes rolled heavenward.

"Why don't we all just sit down and have a cuppa, hm?"

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Rather quickly, they all settled down with steaming cups of tea, warm scones, a plate of jam and a small bowl of clotted cream. Nymphadora sat back, one hand on her rounded stomach, looking rather pale and greenish at the edges as she sipped at her tea and watched the rest prepare breakfast.

"Morning sickness again, love? I thought it had stopped." Her rather concerned husband asked gently as he settled back into his seat. Tonks waved an impatient had at him, her short, floo blown hair changing from a green tinted blonde to fiery red.

"Nevermind that. What on earth is going on here?" Her nearly black eyes shot daggers at each of them as she turned her angry features to each of them. Draco scooted forwards and patted her knee.

"It's nothing awful. No one's done any dark magic or killed anyone." Tonks frowned.

"Hermione is dead." She stated. "We all know it." Severus slowly shook his head.

"no, no…she isn't. Clearly." He indicated the young woman sitting next to him quietly dunking half her scone in her morning tea. "A little bit more outspoken than usual, but here. Alive. Rather healthy. A tad sleep deprived, if you asked a professional healer, but honestly, we just got back the other day and you really can't expect much." He paused, then realized everyone was staring at him with rather wide, shocked eyes. "Bloody hell. I need more tea." He stood and stormed out of the room.

"He's been like that quite a bit, actually." Hermione commented suddenly. "Babbled at me like a schoolboy with a crush when we first arrived." Tonks snorted. Then snickered. Then burst into full blown feminine giggles. Her hands flew to her mouth as Severus stalked back into the den with a steaming pot of tea.

"oh, shut your clumsy trap and pick up your bloody tea cup before it tips over, Nymphadora." Severus snarled darkly. Draco chuckled quietly behind his own teacup.

"Honestly, godfather. You must be quite tired to be babbling so much, hmm?" Severus turned his grumpy gaze upon his godson.

"Indeed, brat." Tonks leaned forwards at the mention of exhaustion.

"Exactly _why_ would you be quite so exhausted?" She asked. Draco, Remus, Severus and Hermione shared a look. Remus quirked a brow. Hermione sighed slightly, Draco groaned as he flopped back into his chair, and Severus simply sipped at his tea. "And what was that?"

Remus quickly folded his hands around one of hers.

"Love, there's a lot that's been going on. It was just a quick decision to let me tell you what has happened while they go start on actual breakfast." He nodded towards the large table with the map supplies that was being quickly cleared by the three hungry adults. Platters of fruit tarts, jugs of milk and pumpkin juice, steaming piles of pancakes and pats of butter were quickly appearing on the table as the three conjured seats for one another.

Remus pulled Tonks to the side, closer to the fire and explained to his wife what had happened. How Hermione had been captured by Ginny. How Narcissa had been put under the imperious. How Severus had been brewing awful potions for Ginny, but still managing to wean Hermione off of them. Then, all about his heroic escape, which Severus managed to catch a bit of, then proceeded to grumble about over dramatics and stupid werewolves. He told her about updating Hermione, and how he and Draco had been researching, locating and examining plans and ruins of old Death Eater haunts, searching for the exact location of Ginny's stronghold.

Tonks was in shock. Ginerva Weasley had done this? Why would she…ah. A niggling thought in her brain clicked into place.

Harry Potter. The ruggedly handsome boy-who-lived's image popped into Tonks' mind. Of course. Ginny was a jealous, petty young woman. Very greedy and always looking for ways to 'better' herself. Having Hermione around after the war would have pulled Harry, his money, and his political status away from the ever so needy Ginerva.

Tonks glanced over at the pale, sunken face of her favorite member of the Golden Trio and smiled. It was good to have Hermione home. But what would she do if Harry asked about Remus's whereabouts again?

She quickly told her embarrassingly understanding husband about how she and Harry had stuck Dobby on his trail. He had laughed and assured her that he wasn't upset, then told her he had already known about the devoted house elf following him, and had erected many a safety net to keep house elf and wizard away until Hermione was ready.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Later that evening, Tonks finally got the chance to have a bit of girl time with Hermione. The men had banished them from the room after the two females had begun to nitpick over the hand drawn maps, and the spells Draco and Remus had been researching to use to animate it.

"So…how was it, really?" Tonks asked gently as she braided Hermione's long, curly, and thankfully less bushy hair.

"Severus told you all of it." Hermione replied quietly. Tonks leaned down and tapped the younger woman's cheek with the tip of her finger.

"Naughty, naughty Hermione. Lying to your elders." She resumed braiding. "I'm here for you. It's girl time. Tell me everything."

Hermione heaved a relieved, but exhausted sigh. Tonks slipped down onto the bed next to Hermione, and waited while the younger woman settled back against the wall, in the space Tonks had just been kneeling in.

"Alright…well…from what I remember, it was dark. Very dark. Cold, lots of dirt and cement. I mostly remember having dreams. Most of them were about Ginny and Harry. She was always doing something that would hurt him."

Tonks gently slipped her hand into Hermione's. she squeezed the smaller, paler hand encouragingly. "I…I would always have to watch, and know. I could never do anything to help….I really odnt remember the torture Severus said they put me through. I suppose I could feel a dull ache here and there, but not much else. I do remember him coming though, feeding me, telling me that the dreams weren't real, that I was going to be ok."

A smile broke through her teary complexion as she turned to stare Tonks in the eyes. "Honestly? I knew I had to believe him. He was horrible to us in school, yes…and he almost killed the headmaster…but really, Severus saved Harry thousands of times, and kept every single 'dunderheaded' one of us in his potions class alive and relatively unharmed. Listening to what he was saying, believing it? It was simply…logical."

Tonks thought for a moment. She supposed it was true. Severus was always a grumpy, lonely looking man, but he was always the one that was right. Always had an answer.

"I didn't know it was Ginny till the other day, when Severus got us out. I saw her, she was telling him something in the doorway, she looked at me and it was the nastiest, most disturbingly proud look on her face that I've ever seen. Horrible, it was." She shook her head.

"Anyway. Severus brought me here. Let me borrow some of his elder sisters clothes. He told me that Remus and Draco were trying to figure out where we had come from. Ginny had some powerful wards erected. Apparently the place has a fidelious, confundus…all sorts of repelling charms…But Severus, brilliant minded Severus has done it. He memorized most of the corridors and rooms. They're trying to recreate the Marauders' Map, then find the location using the plans from the map. It's hard work, but they've been making headway since Severus and I got back."

Tonks shook her head.

"You've been through a lot, even if your mind doesn't recall it all….but…wouldn't you like to see Harry?"

Hermione pulled away from Tonks, and slipped off of the bed. She sat down at the vanity and inspected the messy fishtail braid Tonks had created. Her eyes focused on the braid, she did her best to ignore Tonks' piercing gaze.

"No….no, I'd much rather just deal with Ginny, then find a place to live in peace." A snort from the door cause both females to look up.

"Honestly, Granger. You won't have much peace once it comes out that you're alive, you know. Unless you go to the muggle world, but you wouldn't…" Draco paused as Hermione's eyes darted away. "you…you would? Hermione! Really!" he shook his head and began to pace, his hands balling into fists as he stalked in a circle.

"No. No, you cannot. Your mind is too brilliant for the muggle world. Don't forget Potter! Bloody Potter, getting his nose into everything. Still getting into trouble, he is. Heard he was looking to go to Romania, join up with that Charlie Weasley chap. Bleedin' dangerous if you ask me, and dirty too. Do you really think he'd be safe alone?" Hermione laughed softly as she smoothed the edge of her linen night shirt.

"He won't be alone. He has Ron, and Neville…and…you, right?" Draco snorted.

"Longbottom works for Hogwarts now. Ron is married with babies on the way. Come on, woman. Use that massive ol' brain of yours. Harry Potter needs you. Merlin, Granger. Here I was, thinking you were the smart one in this house." Tonks made a grumpy noise, and threw a pillow at him. "Oi!" He shrieked, patting at his perfect hair. "I'm just trying to convince the bint that she needs to stay around. No need to mess me up!"

Tonks giggled behind her hands.

"Ahh, I knew you were a smidge gay in there." She snickered out as Hermione's wand directed more pillows at the blond man, rumpling his clothes, hair and attitude. Draco froze at Tonks's words.

"Yes." He said slowly, whipping out his wand. "Just a smidge." He flicked it, and the pillows banished themselves to the bed. He flicked it again, and his clothing and hair straightened to it's perfectly tailored, groomed look. Draco turned on his heel and left immediately.

"You know," Hermione said slowly as she turned on the vanity stool to share an intrigued look with Tonks. "Ronald _did_ always come back from his late nights with blond hair burrowed in his patent Weasley sweater…" The two females stared at each other in shock.

"No…"

"Couldn't be…could it?"

Hermione knew, then and there, that Ron's secret lover wasn't quite so secret anymore.


	11. Scent

So here's the deal. My computer crashed, and I lost like...13 pages. It was horrible. I got a little more pounded out, and then went through it again before I published- which I didn't do with any of the other chapters. I only revised once, so let me know if you noticed any changes :)

Once again, I'm working on format, and spelling. I don't have time to research locations and spellings properly right now. I WILL do so at a later date, though.

Hang in there, I know some of you are anxious for them to meet ;D

* * *

Night had fallen across the small acreage Severus's townhouse resided upon. The other homes along the street were darkened and quiet. Except for the actual Snape residence, of course.

Light streamed from nearly all of the downstairs windows, causing the dew delicately balancing on the well manicured lawn to sparkle brilliantly. Nymphadora stood at one of the tall, narrow windows watching the lamp lit blades sway in the cool early spring breeze rambling through the streets.

A large hand slipped under her elbow, across her stomach to rest on the bulge of her newest family member.

"It's late." Remus's chest rumbled against her back. His lips tickled her ear. She smiled faintly.

"It is." It was mind-blowingly relieving to know that her husband was safe, and not shoving his nose into things he shouldn't be. Or rather, things that he shouldn't be poking at _without backup_. His other arm wrapped around her waist as well. He tightened his hold slightly and rocked her gently.

"Perhaps it is time to go home?" Tonks pouted, and giggled quietly at the amused sparkle of her husband's amber eyes in the window panes reflection. She turned in his arms and kissed his cheek.

"Perhaps so." Remus led her by the elbow to a chair near the fire, then left to gather her shoes and coat.

Hermione plopped rather ungracefully onto the cushion next to Tonks and smiled wearily at her. The younger woman's previously well ironed, spotless, perfectly buttoned plum oxford had been cinched around her midsection with a beautiful black waistcoat. Now, the waistcoat could be seen barely hanging from the back of the chair Hermione had been seated in. Her pretty blouse was rumpled, the sleeves scrunched up to her elbows, the top three buttons undone, and covered in ink stains of all different colors.

Tonks found it incredibly endearing that Hermione still had such a passion for figuring out mind-bending problems without a care to how she felt, or her appearance. Tonks shook herself from her appraisal of the younger woman as Hermione's chocolate brown irises narrowed in concern and a question clearly arose in her eyes.

"Headed home?" Tonks patted her thigh tiredly.

"I am…" She looked away, into the flames awkwardly.

She wanted to tell Hermione how terribly she had missed the younger woman. How she had wished that she had been able to join the search. How she never should have given up hope. How she had always wanted Hermione to have been there to watch Teddy grow, for her to be there to watch the other two thirds of the Golden Trio finally grow into the intelligent, brave young men they had always been on the inside.

Hermione turned completely towards the older woman and threw her arms around Tonks.

"Love," She said softly in the older witches ear, tightening her arms around the clumsy witch. "It's alright. I understand. I'm just happy to be here now, with you." She squeezed gently, then let go.

Remus finally appeared with Nymphadora's shiny silver flats and black pea coat. He knelt and helped her slip on the flats, chuckling warmly as Hermione teased him. Hermione leapt up and helped Tonks up.

The ex-aurorer turned and cupped Hermione's cheek with her soft hand.

"You're an amazing woman, Hermione Granger. I'm more than pleased to be seeing you again." She kissed the younger woman's forehead, then, with a parting wave to Severus and Draco, kissed her husband and floo'd home.

Xxxxxxxxx

Tonks and Remus owned a small cottage settled neatly into the woods at the edge of Hogsmeade. It was small, cozy and perfect for their small family. Usually, it was rather calm and quiet, with just Teddy's quiet noises, and the crackling of the fire. Unfortunately, tonight was not a usual night.

Home was not the relaxing atmosphere Tonks had been expecting. No, the moment the floo flared to life, Molly Weasley was on her feet and roaring about irresponsibility and childcare. Ginny was red-faced, and angrily clenching her fists. Harry paced restlessly by the stairs to the second floor, and Teddy could be heard screaming piteously from his room.

Tonks groaned and ran a hand down her already pale face. It was nearly too much. She was exhausted, overwhelmed and quite pregnant. Still, she couldn't return to Severus's. They would hear her destination and be on her tail in no time. Most still thought Severus was dead, and would panic at the realization that he was really quite well and alive, despite Harry Potter's very own wizards oath that Severus Snape was completely and totally on the Light side.

With that in mind, she whipped out her wand and cast a series of spells.

Within moments, the Weasleys were wrapped up tight in their well worn spring cloaks and shoes, and silenced. Two cups of steeping tea floated to the table, and a soft lullaby was set to play to her young, crying son. Harry, though still pacing, was wrapped in a handmade afghan and magically directed by a gently buffering breeze to the large oak kitchen table.

Tonks slapped her wand against her palm as she circled the immobilized Weasley's.

"Now, Molly, all I asked was that you take Teddy from his daycare to the house. Why might you still be here when I returned? With your daughter, no less. Ah, and might I remind you of my _wailing_ child?"

Molly's eyes softened, and her anger drained from her body instantly. The soft sniffling of the child could still be heard through Tonks' monitoring charm.

"Indeed. I find that there is no more reason for you_ or_ your daughter to be here now, or to have need to return for any reason at all in the near future. Please leave." With a slight swish of her wand, Tonks had the two Weasley females floating hastily out of the house. The door slammed closed and locked firmly behind them. The wards crashed down the moment they were outside of its protection.

Tonks soothed herself as she took off her outerwear, listening to the soft croon of her mother's voice singing the lullaby she always used when Teddy was having a good hard cry.

Molly was never one to barge into the Lupin home without reason. It would all be resolved tomorrow, or there would be people taken from the ward allowances.

xxxxxxxx

Moments later, a still exhausted, but much happier Nymphadora Tonks was seating herself across from her child's godfather. She rubbed her swollen stomach, just relaxing and watching her son's young godfather.

Harry had, at some point, drawn the afghan tighter around himself, and finally settled down. He sipped lightly at his tea, round lenses fogging up with each sip. His knee bounced hard and fast, a testament to the fact that he was still quite agitated. His broadened shoulders were tense, and his left hand kept rising to his hair, dragging through it the same way his father used to.

"What has had you in such a huff, Mr. Potter?" Tonks asked softly. Harry set his tea cup down, then buried both of his hands in his hair, staring down at the knot in the all-natural tabletop.

"Dobby saw them." He muttered to the knot. Tonks frowned.

"Saw who?" Suddenly, a flip switched in her mind. Bloody hell. She had forgotten about asking Harry to have Dobby stop tracking Remus. For a moment, Tonks floundered.

"_Please_ Tonks." Harry moaned. Nymphadora's heart broke. The poor boy knew Dobby had been correct. Knew she had just returned from her husband's side, which without a doubt, must have been very close to Hermione.

"Harry, I'm sorry." She whispered.

The cups rattled on their pretty little saucers.

"You're sorry?" He snarled, the darkness of a lost, angry, confused, heartbroken young man taking over the bright green of his mothers eyes. "YOU'RE SORRY?"

Remus chose that moment to arrive. Within seconds, magic was whipping through the air and binding tightly around Harry. Gentle, calming and dominant, Harry's magic fought back for a moment, before setting down. The werewolf essence in Remus was more at ease with its domineering presence than Harry's somehow still growing magic was. After a few more moments of furious fighting, Harry submitted, his entire body slackening as his magic retracted back to his core.

He stood there, shaggy black hair gleaming in the soft light of the barely lit kitchen, chest heaving as he caught his breath. His glasses had been knocked off, those curse green eyes sparkled with near tears.

"That'll do pup." Remus breathed softly. He stepped over to the rigid young man and pried the drawn wand from his fingers. "Easy, please." He ran a calming hand across Harry's tensed shoulders.

Tonks retrieved the now cracked lenses, and repaired them. She hooked them gently over the collar of his threadbare t-shirt.

Slowly, her husband released the young man. Each wisp of his magic slipped away and returned to the werewolf, seeming to take with it all of the tension Harry had been harboring.

"I'm sorry." Harry breathed, burying his face in Remus's chest, nearly knocking the older wizard over in a tight hug.

"It's fine, Harry. We understand what you're going through…Trust me." Tonks rubbed his back and refreshed their tea, bringing back a cup for Remus as well.

"Five years, Remus." Harry mumbled. "Five years since I've seen her. Smelt her. Touched her." He laughed ruefully as he sat up and pulled away from his mentor. "Yet, I still know the very scent of her hair, of her skin. It's all over you." He shook his head. "No, not just on you. It's everywhere! It's like being surrounded by Hermione." His bright eyes grew distant.

"Harry?" Remus asked cautiously, trading a concerned look with Tonks. "What do you mean?"

Harry chuckled wearily, returning to the moment.

"You know exactly what I mean. Remus, you're a bloody werewolf. How could you not know?" He waved a hand around "It's that wave of smells that hits you when you open the door. Fresh baked bread at the Weasleys, with a bit of explosives, and sweetness from the candy the twins produce. The perfume my aunt wears, and the awful chemicals she uses to clean. Flowers, outdoors and baby, here."

Tonks settled on the other side of Harry. She gently wrapped an arm around him.

"And Hermione? What does she smell of?" Harry laughed bitterly.

"Cinnamon. Chocolate. Sunshine. What else?" Tonks smiled and squeezed him slightly.

"You're right. She does….What does she taste like?" Remus's eyes widened, and he waved his hands around cautiously. This was a bad idea! Tonks merely rolled her eyes at him and returned her attention to a thoughtful Harry Potter.

"Caramel. She tastes like Caramel."


	12. Caramel

A series of loud chiming blared through the Snape townhouse.

Hermione bolted upright in her borrowed bed and blinked away sleep. Chimes. What did those….ah. Right.

Chimes were for Remus, Cherub chatters for Draco, Beeps for Severus and bells for herself…chimes…for Remus.

Oh no, he had just gone home!

Hermione leapt out of bed, completely forgetting house slippers and robe. She skidded down the hall, and thundered down the stairs. Just in time to observe Severus picking up a slightly smoking slip of parchment from the still green flamed fire. He glanced up at her, where she stood frozen on the stairs. His black eyes unreadable, the slight tension in his shoulders telling her the story instead.

Whatever it was, it wasn't life threatening, just not something Severus was going to enjoy.

For a moment, she was baffled by her own logic.

How had she known what Severus was thinking? Then, it hit her.

Harry and Ron had always been the same, drawing their tension upwards, from their very feet to the top of their ears. Though, Ron had been a bit easier to read than Severus would ever be.

Harry was generally an easy read—if you only wanted to know what he wanted you to know. Harry could produce a physical shield of emotions and maintain it for days on end, hiding whatever he was really thinking.

Ron, however, had his ticks. Fiddling with the hem of his shirt, tapping his foot, allowing his eyes to stray to the upper left, tension in sections of his body.

Severus would certainly not be pleased to know she had just compared him to the other two thirds of the Golden Trio, but honestly, she could care less.

"What happened?"

"He knows."

Severus said nothing more, simply snapped his night robe around his lean body, and made his way past her, up the stairs. Hermione remained, frozen on the exact middle step. She dropped onto the carpeted step in shock.

Harry knew. What did he know?

Where she was? Who took her? What was he thinking?

Snape, the bloody bastard. Leaving her with barely the essentials.

Hermione curled in on herself, wrapped her arms around her shins and dug her chin into her left kneecap. It would be good to see Harry again.

His sun warmed skin, buzzing ever so slightly with all of that barely contained magic. The deep rumble that bubbled in his chest before _true_ laughter. The sound of it, caramel smooth and soul warming. The scent of those caramel nougats he always seemed to have hidden on his person…Hermione found she almost couldn't wait.

A trip to the kitchen found her seated on the counter, a jar of caramel in one hand, a silver spoon dripping with the golden stuff in the other, lips already stained with sugar.

No, she really _couldn't_ wait.


	13. A Birthday Present from the Author

Today is my 20th birthday, so I will be taking the day and likely next few days off. Chapter 12 was my last pre-written chapter, so I've much to catch up on.

I hope you enjoy this insanity that spilled out the other night!

Much love! :)

* * *

Severus groaned as he dropped his feet to the floor. Chilly floorboards greeted his unclothed feet a rather disturbingly cheerful hello.

He pulled his limbs back under the safety and warmth of his blankets, snuggled in deeper and stared up at the canopy roof. His dark brows knit together as he thought.

Friday morning. Four days since he had stolen Hermione and brought her back to safety. What a nightmare. Ginerva had been sending inquisitive, then sweetly demanding, then terribly harassing post. The last Howler had exploded into shreds of red parchment and shrieking female voice moments before even reaching the house.

The owl had been less than pleased.

Remus had positively howled with amusement. Draco had childishly rolled around on the carpet holding his sides and _laughing_. Hermione had spewed tea all over the breakfast table and nearly stopped breathing she was giggling so hard.

The company he kept these days. Outrageous.

Severus mentally stabbed himself with a dagger. Honestly. He needed to concentrate. Why was it so hard to do so these days? Perhaps it was simply because he hadn't brewed anything in many, many days. Had to be it.

With that thought in mind, Severus finally convinced himself to get up and _out_ of bed, cursing and hopping across the still chilly gleaming wooden floorboards. They sparkled in a way that almost seemed to say 'hah, you bastard. Walk on _this_ –attracts as much chill as possible-'.

Severus shook the preposterous thought from his head and rushed his morning routine. He seriously needed to get to his lab.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Where is Severus this morning?" Remus asked the snarling mass of curls frothing in Hermione's usual chair. He reached out to touch a curl, when Draco's pale hand shot out of nowhere and grabbed his wrist.

"Ahh, bad idea." Remus pulled back and followed the crooked finger of the Malfoy heir to the kitchen. They set about making up a tea tray as Draco explained.

"Severus had a bit of a mental breakdown this morning. Heard him muttering something about the 'blasted, buggering, effing Voldemort's-cruticus-worthy' floorboards when I went to check on him earlier. He rushed through his normal morning things, you'll notice. Missed patches shaving, left his conditioner in his hair even though—and this is where it gets good, he apparently spent two hours in the shower. Used up all the hot water. Hermione couldn't get her heat-activated conditioner to work, so her hair dried in a tangle. She tried to brush it, but it just…ended up like…" The two of them peered into the den. The mass of curls was still seething and snarling at the table. "That."

Remus shook his head.

"They're going nuts. Both of them have been cooped up in here too long." Draco nodded in agreement.

"Severus is still paranoid though, about being found out." Remus flapped his hand at the younger wizard and rolled his eyes.

"That's not what I meant. We could do our work outside, you know? Use a modified shield spell or something to keep the weather from bothering us. Severus and Hermione could get some fresh air, you could get a bit of…ah…sun…" he stared rather obviously at the pale blue veins peeping out from Draco's cuffs. He pulled his shirt sleeves down over his hands and scowled.

"I'm not see through! Stop it." Tonks snorted as she made her entrance, kissing her husband and ruffling her cousin's hair.

"That's a lie, dragon boy, and you know it." She poked one long finger between his brows. His grey-blue eyes crossed humorously. Tonks continued poking him for a few moments, snickering, before she continued. "stay in a bit longer and you'll be so translucent that my lover would have been able to see me do that, _from where he is sitting __**now**_." Draco scowled at her and batted her hand away, then turned his scowl on Remus, whom was snickering into his teacup, trying to look innocent. He kicked his feet childishly against the cupboards and shifted nervously on the marble countertop he was seated upon.

"You're both terrible."

The couple glanced at one another, grinned and nodded. They knew it, and they _abused_ it.

Xxxx

Draco huffed and puffed about the absurdity of going outdoors for a good hour longer, then finally agreed. Then, he spent the next hour sprawled out on the large table usually kept in the den. He wore a skimpy purple Speedo and was drenched head to foot in sunscreen so thick he was white. Lotion white.

Hermione, the little frothing ball of curls that she was, rolled around luxuriously on the soft green grass, chuckling madly.

Severus took cover under the table with a tiny fire pit and cauldron Tonks had kindly transfigured for him.

He was continuously creating sun lotion, slathering it on his exposed boney elbow, then giving the rest to Draco.

Severus repeated this process every two hours, from 9am to 7:30 when the group finally made their way inside.

Remus and Tonks, on the other hand, spent their time relishing in the activities they no longer seemed to have time to do: Sleeping (In Remus' case) and transforming their looks in the mirror and laughing uproariously in their own private silencio'd bubble….(for the sweet, simple minded Nymphadora.)

Thus, the first Friday of Hermione's release was spent.

For the next four years, no one dared mention a word of the day to each other, or anyone else. They didn't dare to let anyone else hear of the ridiculousness of Draco's sunbathing, Severus's hatred of the sun, Hermione's hair attack, Tonks' stupidity, or Remus's disturbingly odd sounding snores.


	14. Arrival

Alright, I felt bad for 1- giving you all that horrible chapter previously & 2-not writing anything in a long time, so, here's another chapter.

There are no more pre-written chapters, so bear with me for a while so I can catch up a bit.

(I know, I know, no Hermione yet? This must agonizing, eh?)

Tehe. Enjoy!

* * *

It was nearing the second week since the day Harry had found out Hermione had been liberated from wherever the monster that had kidnapped her had hidden her away. The Lupin residence was much dustier, and empty feeling. Devoid of life, and had been, clearly, for at least a week. Harry frowned as he ran a finger along the edge of the cold, empty fireplace. He lifted his finger. Coated with dust. He shook his head, and stormed to the front door. He scooped up his broom and took off into the gathering storm.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

The storm had long passed, leaving large puddles and drooping, water heavy fauna to sway in the remaining cool breeze. Severus snarked at the puddles he strode through, his scowl growing darker as Draco muttered grumpily behind him, daintily toeing his way through the maze of water and thin walls of saturated dirt restraining them from becoming one massive pond-like puddle.

"Why are we doing this?" he asked, as they came upon a thick wall of wards.

"Because we must." Severus replied. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. Draco did the same. They joined hands, in hope that _one_ of them may be exempt from the invisible line and layers upon layers of powerful wards. They looked at one another, then stepped forwards, as one.

Harry Potter's cottage, in a quiet, peaceful, hidden section of the Forbidden Forest was a wreck. Clothing was strewn everywhere, dirty plates and dishes piled high on any available surface, and the very man whom owned the house was consistently observed sprawled in random areas of his home, dead asleep.

Unwashed, unshaven and clearly ignoring the daily needs of his home, Harry Potter was a mess.

This, Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy noticed the very moment they stepped foot over the border of Harry's wards.

The house needed a paint job, there were weeks over running the river-stone pathway to the door, and the garden was clearly taking over the rest of the land, managing to sprout various herbs and flowers around to the front corner of the cottage.

Draco sighed and rubbed at his forehead.

"So Remus was correct, he _hasn't_ been managing well." Severus closed his eyes in momentary defeat and nodded. The savior of the wizarding world was indeed, not doing well at all.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Draco indicated the door nervously. The two grown dark wizards could sense a very dangerous, sophisticated ward crackling menacingly spread thickly over the very peels of the poorly painted stone walls. It was especially thick at the entrance of the cottage, and the windows.

Severus steeled himself, and reached for the dull silver doorknob. He twisted it, and pushed.

He paused for a moment, in shock. A momentary flash of pleasure jolted through the tall, dark clothed man before his logical side shoved through. He ran one long, pale finger over his thin lips in thought.

So Harry Potter had raised no wards against him. Severus Snape, welcome to Harry Potter's very own personal plot of land. The public would go wild, if they knew about it.

Severus shook his head woefully. He was past his hatred of the boy, and need to stick to his guns. He had come to speak to the blasted boy, not crawl about on his hands and knees in awe of him.

He beckoned Draco forwards. The young man stepped past Severus, and easily through the ward as well. He too, took a moment to bask in the awe of being so trusted. The moment ended as soon as he got a good look around the darkened entryway. _Disgusting_. Draco flew into an instantly flurry of action.

Xxxx

In the cottage, Harry's torso slowly rose till he was in a seated position on the rug in front of the hearth, and rubbed wearily at his back. He blinked owlishly for a moment, and considered his surroundings.

A paper plate was half submerged in warm coals, half covered in left over crumbs of a scone. A pair of crumpled jeans were partially shoved under the squashy leather couch, and a stained oxford was slung over the back. One shoe was shoved onto Harry's left hand, the other across the room, by the arch-entrance of the den.

Harry rose to his knees, barely noticing his glasses levitate themselves from one arm hooked over his ear, to properly seated across his nose. He scratched briefly at his oddly bare, scarred chest as he climbed onto the couch and peered over the edge of one of the large squishy back cushions.

Something felt funny, but he wasn't sure what exactly it was. He surveyed the house from his viewpoint, grateful for the open plan.

From the wide arch of the door less entry to the den, he could see the showed a dining room to the left. The table was nearly overflowing with casserole dishes. A mild preservation charm shimmered a dim yellow over the table. The chairs were scattered about the space, a few tipped over. His grey tanktop hung from the leg of the nearest toppled chair.

On the right, the shimmer of his untouched silencing and preserving charms on his warding and research calmed him slightly. Normally, intruders waltzed right through the open area, thinking it was just a sort of greeting space. Not so.

Harry directed his gaze past the table, and overturned chairs to the large kitchen. The island counter was covered in a multitude of baking ingredients, the flour neatly tipped over and emptied onto the floor. Paw prints from Harry's recently obtained cat led from the pile of flour to the door flap.

Cabinet doors were open, dirty dishes were piled on the other counters and in the sink. One pot on the stove was still gurgling and bubbling with whatever Harry had been making. He rubbed at his nose childishly and tried to remember what he had been doing.

It took a while. To think, that is. His mind kept wandering off and not returning.

A small shiver ran down Harry's back. His eyes widened as he instinctively turned, dropped to the couch seats, and quietly thumped to the floor. He held out his hand and silently accio'd his wand.

Someone with a dark mark had crossed his wards. Someone whom had access to the plot of land…Severus! Harry nearly knocked over the couch as he jumped up and ran around it to the door in the kitchen. It was the only one facing the direction the ward disturbance had come from.

He flung the door open and froze, one foot out the door. Two sets of muddy footprints marred the perfect, pearly white of the large marble stoop. Two people had been here, touched his door. _Two_ people?

Harry focused on his wards, and with sudden clarity, realized he had felt the passing of the dark mark so deeply because _two_ with the mark had entered. Harry rifled through his mental contact cards. Most that he knew with the dark mark were either dead, or imprisoned in the new, dementor-free Azkaban…and the only one other than Snape allowed on his property with the mark would have been the junior Malfoy…why on earth were Severus Snape and Draco Malfoy deciding to randomly invite themselves to his home?

He glanced down again. The tracks would tell him. He bypassed the slightly smaller set that led into his house. He already knew where Draco would be. The young man _must_ have some sort of OCD, Harry thought, for as he listened closer, he could hear someone rummaging around his room, drawers opening and sliding closed, the rasp of denim folding, the clean, crisp snap of freshly laundered sheets being flung open. Draco Malfoy was _cleaning_ Harry Potter's cottage.

Life was full of surprises.

Harry followed Severus's larger prints around the corner of his home, to the water logged garden and froze in shock.

Severus was inspecting his garden. Severus Snape was _inspecting_ his garden. To be precise, the herb portion, the one area Harry was proud to say he cared for without the help of elves or Neville. Well, the kitchen herbs and the small portion of flowers that were just there for pleasure—mostly muggle versions only.

Harry snapped his attention back to the present as a weed went flying over Severus's shoulder and disappeared midair. The bloody bat was weeding his garden! Harry flew from the side of his home, across the damp lawn and barely managed to skid to a muddy stop a mere foot away from the kneeling potions master without bowling either of them over.

"Snape!" he shouted, leaning down towards the man.

Severus rolled his shoulders and leaned back on his heels.

"Yes, Potter?" He asked dryly. "I'm rather busy, if you hadn't noticed." Harry scowled.

"Where the _fuck _have you been?" Severus looked the younger man up and down. Took in the shaggy dark hair, the bare chest, the rumpled cartoon covered boxers, the muddy black socks, and snickered.

"Busy. Terribly sorry I didn't arrive in time for the slumber party." Harry blushed and hurriedly balanced on one leg, yanked off a sock and transfigured it into a night robe.

Severus continued to weed.

"Seriously, Snape. It's been a long time since you've been seen _anywhere_. Why show up now? And with Draco Malfoy, of all people!" Severus finally stood. He brushed his hands off on his thighs, then wiped away the clinging mud at his knees. He rolled down his white oxford's sleeves and straightened completely.

"I need to talk to you. Draco just came along for the…_fun_ of it." He said simply, then turned sharply on his heel and marched to the open kitchen door. A purely white kitten sat in the direct middle of the entry. Severus took one large step over the kitten, and began waving his wand.

Harry scowled at his mud caked sock and now equally muddy left foot, then took off after the man. He scooped up his curious kitten and closed the door on the brightly dawning day.

xxxxxxx

It took a few moments, but he eventually found Snape in the oddly spacious laundry room under the stairs, directing various cleaning supplies out the door. Harry hurried into the small room during a lull in the dancing, floating supplies, and hopped up onto the tall table placed between the washer and dryer. Severus circled his wand above his head, then pointed it at Harry. The young man frowned, then scowled darkly as dancing articles of clothing began waltzing into the room. He felt like a child being reprimanded through silence by a stern nanny.

He stared resolutely at the almond brown wall paint of the opposite wall as the pile next to him grew and grew, and grew. Finally, the dirty sock he had been wearing wriggled off of his foot and flew up to the top of the pile. Severus flicked his wand in a most bored manner at the mountain of clothing.

Within moments it had separated into colors, whites, towels and robes.

Harry raised one dark brow. Severus Snape knew how to do laundry. Properly. Shocking.

Severus levitated half the obscenely large pile of whites into the washer, and manually set it. He took the only chair in the room and sat primly in it, crossed one leg over the other and took to staring at Harry.

"What?"

Severus said nothing.

"Why are staring at me?"

Still, nothing.

"Do you want something?"

Not even a muscle twitched.

"Why are you here? Why is Draco here, and _WHY_ on _earth_ are you both _cleaning_?"

Severus blinked.

Draco took the strained moment to enter the room.

"Hullo Potter, uncle." He deposited a large bundle of wrinkled sheets on Harry's lap and hopped onto the door of the top-loading dryer. "Discussing the nastiness of this home, are we?" He asked cheerfully.

Severus snorted and shook his head.

"no, Potter here is asking the most obtuse, stupid questions." Draco laughed, Harry scowled.

"I am not! I simply asked questions, I mean, why on earth would you show up at my house? Why aren't you with Remus? I heard he found Hermione. Why aren't you helping him free her?" Draco's delicate, pale brows came together, he stared hard at his dark uncle. He hadn't told Potter _anything_ yet?

"Ah, there you go." Severus murmured silkily, finally directing his words towards The-Boy-Who-Lived. "That was the question I was looking for, Mr. Potter." He titled his head back and looked down his long nose at the younger man. "Mr. Potter, you know Ms. Granger is alive, don't you?"

Harry nodded slowly, glancing over at the slightly frowning Slytherin next to him.

"Surely you'd like to see her, no?"


	15. Disturbance

Chyeeeah! Pounded another out. Please review, lemme know what you think!

**Warning!-** There are a few misspellings here, I know it. But! it is **4am** and I don't _feel_ like looking it up and fixing it.

:|

* * *

Long after Tonks and then even later, Remus had left, Severus and Draco returned. They brought the scent of night, and Hogwarts with them. Draco hugged her tightly in the entrance hall, Severus simply nodded as he removed his cloak and heavy boots in exchange for oddly fluffy black house slippers.

"How was he?" Hermione asked worriedly."I know he doesn't do well when information is withheld."

Draco massaged his temples and sighed.

"Not well, Hermione. He's not doing well. It is late, I must go." He left then, without another word. Spun on his heel and disapparated.

Hermione frowned. Severus nodded towards the den, she trailed after him, a worried air stiffening her soft features.

"Hermione, calm down." He poured himself a tumbler of scotch and settled into his favorite chair by the hearth. "Sit down, sit down." She did so, reluctantly. "He knows you are well." Severus began, "That you are safe and being cared for….I…have given him a date. Three more weeks, then he may see you."

Hermione straightened from her worried slouch.

"Truly?" Severus rolled his eyes, but nodded. He leaned forwards, the lines on his face deepening as he stared rather seriously at the young woman.

"You need to understand that what Draco said is true. You know Mr. Potter. He hides his true emotions shockingly easily. Today, he was not." Severus swirled his drink for a moment, watched as the amber liquid within the heavy glass tumbler washed over the gently clinking ice cubes. "Mr. Potter was unusually visibly emotional. He swung from worried to angry to confused. I have given him a time limit of three weeks to work on it."

"To work on concealing his emotions? Severus, why would that be more important than seeing me?" Severus took a long, slow sip of his scotch.

"You don't understand." He said after a moment. "Harry Potter is no longer the Harry Potter you once knew. When the war was all done and over with, when Draco and I were helping gather bodies, when we were helping heal the wounded…Harry was going insane. He was worrying all day about where you had been taken." Hermione frowned.

"That's not like Harry. He'd be worried, yes, but he'd be helping with everything else first…" Severus laughed darkly.

"Oh, he helped, but he was so distracted, that he was almost _more_ of a hindrance than anything else. His power grew tenfold, and he didn't realize it until later, when he was healing wounded so much so that an elderly man from Hogsmeade announced that he was cured from his heart disease and the arthritis that had been plaguing him for years was completely gone. Harry found, mended and replaced the castles gates in two hours."

That fact had Hermione stunned. She sat back. The wrought iron gates were more than twice the height of Hagrid, each bar equal to width as his leg. It's design was painstakingly delicate, runes hidden throughout the swirls and images shaped within it.

"Hermione…" Severus took one of her hands and stared deeply into her eyes. She _needed_ to understand exactly _how_ powerful her old friend had grown. "He cast a first years level levitation charm. He used a _simple_ repairo. Do you understand?" Hermione's cinnamon brown eyes narrowed.

"Are you lying to me?" Severus shook his head.

"No, I would not lie about this. Minerva had him go to the back of the castle, to the area that was hit hardest by the Forbidden Forest. She didn't want anyone to see him repairing things so easily without a thought…." He threw back the rest of his drink and clunked the glass down on the small table between the couch and his chair. "I gave him that time to re-evaluate his power, which has settled down greatly…but it is still heavily affected by his emotions. He lives in the Forbidden Forest, he works alone, sees naught a soul unless it's at one of those Weasley dinners you all loved so much. Even then, everyone is careful not to excite him, or anger him…While I bothered him outside, Draco was in, cleaning up. He said every single object in the house began to levitate while I irritated and confused the boy, including Draco himself! There is a calming charm placed by Molly in the main door, it barely worked. Things were still hovering centimeters from the floor when we walked in!" She nodded slowly.

"I see. No one has asked him to see a mind healer, or someone well versed in magical theory?" Severus laughed, but it was a hollow, dark laugh.

"Of course not. Who do you think your friends are? Certainly not Dumbledore." She frowned.

"Well, why not? Everyone knows the first thing _I'd_ do would be to research them, and then find them! What of Albus, anyway? Last I knew, he was protecting the first through fourth years in his family manor." Severus nodded slowly.

"Yes, he was. He has grown frail though, his age has caught up to him. He and the…other heads of houses spend much time together." Hermione sighed.

"So the curse has caught up to him…" Severus closed his eyes and shook his head. He crossed one long leg over the other and steepled his fingers over his stomach as he slouched down in his chair.

"no, no we stuck Harry and Albus in a room together for a few hours. Harry contained the curse _and_ the poison from it in Albus's right hand pinky. We amputated, healed it and he was back to normal Albus Dumbledore activities within the day….It's his age that's caught up. He's quite old, even by wizarding standards."

Hermione stared into the crackling, snapping fire for a while, then stood.

"Alright. I understand why no one has done what I would have. I also know that Harry would have likely rejected any help. You said three weeks?" Severus nodded. "Then three weeks it shall be. I'm going to bed." He nodded once more, watched her leave, then turned his dark eyes to the last piece of wood in the grate. He watched it burn for a while, startling when the grandfather clock in the entryway announced that the time was one am. He stood and began to leave, paused at the doorway and cast a few spells on the fireplace. He didn't need anyone, especially one Harry Potter interrupting his much needed sleep tonight.

The painfully loud screeching of disrupted wards shattered Hermione's peaceful sleep. She jolted upright in her bed, threw aside her coverings and ran to the door. She went to yank it open, and nearly pulled her own arm out of it's socket.

"What the bloody hell?" She tried again, twisting and turning the knob until her wrist began to grow sore. "SEVERUS SNAPE!" She roared "YOU LET ME OUT RIGHT NOW! I DEMAND TO KNOW WHAT IS GOING ON!"

When Severus didn't reply, Hermione began casting all the unlocking, opening, blasting and removal spells she knew on the door. Nothing worked, it all simply absorbed or dissipated. She gave up hope after a few moments, and pressed herself bodily against the door. She sighed, closed her eyes, and thumped her forehead against the door.

"Severus," She moaned. "Please, open the door already."

A slip of parchment tickled over her toes as it wriggled under the door. She moved her feet, and watched in surprised as it slid up the door and plastered itself flat against the very space her forehead had just been.

Severus's tight, spiky scrawl began to fill the page.

_Hermione, the wards you heard earlier were from Potter. He attempted to floo into the house, but I was prepared with a few detainment spells. When he was bounced back, I assume he contacted Albus and asked for my address, for he was soon at the door, demanding to be let in. He did the same as you did, and accosted the house with a great many spells._

_I have him downstairs at this very moment, but I ask that you do not continue in your efforts to exit your room. I have charmed the doors using the latent house magic to keep you safely within. There are a few silencing charms as well, so he will not be able to hear you if you yell…neither will I, so if you need something, please call for Whimsy. She is the Lupin's house elf, and is on loan to us until Mr. Potter has left._

_She cannot bring Harry to you, or you to him, so please do not ask. She will not, and can not carry any messages you may try to leave, including parchment hidden in food, food used to form letters, or items charmed with your voice._

_Please do not question me on this, Hermione._

_Nymphadora or Remus will be up to see you shortly._

_-S.S._

But it was not either of the Lupin's who came to see her, instead, it was an exhausted Draco Malfoy. He opened the door, and startled as he caught sight of Hermione straddling a backwards chair two feet in front of the door.

"Well hello." He whispered. Hermione frowned at him, noting how his eyes were rimmed in raw red, how his hair was oddly rumpled, and the purpling handprint across his face.

"Draco?" He laughed wearily and waved.

"Hey. It's a downright party down there." He said, nodding towards the door, his lips trembling into a farce of a smile.

"Oh, is it?" She asked quietly as she stood and made her way slowly to the finely trembling young man.

"Aye, Harry's got everything levitating, Tonks has a wailing baby and is puking everywhere, Remus is trying to be all kind and quiet, and Severus….well, you know my godfather. He's just making it all worse with snide comments." He smiled slightly, a small smile, but a true one. It lit up his grey eyes for a moment, brought a bit of color to his washed out cheeks. "I was there for a while, but it was rather boring. I came to see what my favorite hideaway was up to."

Hermione ignored his quirked eyebrow and lunged forwards. She wrapped her arms around him and held tight, even as he stumbled backwards and nearly fell over.

"H-H-Hermione?" He stuttered. "What are you doing?" Hermione said nothing, simply nuzzled her cheek against his soft cashmere sweater and tightened her arms, her hands rubbing gently at the back of his neck and the small of his back.

After a few moments, Draco relaxed enough to slump against her, his face burrowing through her hair. She felt his cold, pointed nose first, then his cheek as he found her collarbone and pressed his moistening face against her bare skin. His tears were oddly warm as they pooled in the hollow of her collarbone. They left salty, glistening marks down her exposed upper chest, and soaked into the collar of her loose pajama top.

"Draco," she breathed. Her arms loosened enough so she could pull away. "What's the matter, love?" Draco said nothing, simply wriggled his arms loose and threw them around her smaller frame.

They stood there for a long time, rocking ever so slightly back and forth as they clung to one another, Draco, the icy, unyielding Malfoy breaking down in the utmost impossibly sweet way. Hermione, one of his most hated enemies coddling him for all she was worth.

Xxxxxx

Tonks closed the door on the two quietly, and tiptoed back down the stairs.

"I think they need some more time." She said quietly. Remus scented tears in the air she carried down with her, so he nodded. Whoever it was that was crying, the two youngsters would have to take care of it alone. They had work to do.

Severus frowned, but agreed slowly. Draco had looked incredibly disturbed when he had apparated in earlier. He turned to the other two, pushed his worries about his godson to the back of his thoughts and dropped rather painfully into one of the hard kitchen chairs.

"So," Tonks said cheerfully, "What are we going to do with him?" She pointed at the bound, silenced and deafened Boy-Who-Lived slumped angrily in the corner.


End file.
